


Scrambling to Egg-splain

by goldenheadfreckledheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenheadfreckledheart/pseuds/goldenheadfreckledheart
Summary: Bellamy isn't sure how getting caught egging someone's house can actually turn into a good thing, but he also hasn't seen Clarke Griffin in a while. Maybe the two are related.





	

**Author's Note:**

> BFF fill for the prompt: "I'm egging your house for a dare but your parent is a cop and they’re yelling at me so I told them that you were my ex and you wronged me and now you’re coming outside and please go along with this I don’t want to go to jail"

It should be said that this wasn’t Bellamy’s idea. The only reason that he’s here is that he couldn’t talk Octavia out of the bullshit initiation she’s convinced she has to do to join some crazy adventure naturalist club at school. 

“It’s about the  _ adrenaline _ , Bell,” she’d told him, acting for all the world like this was a normal thing. It’s a terrible idea, but it’s her first year of college and Bellamy is trying,  _ trying _ , to let her make her own choices--to not be the polar opposite of their late mother, distant and apathetic. Which is how he ends up here, the designated getaway driver for Octavia’s egg-attack on some, vaguely conservative councilwoman’s house. The least he can do, if he can’t talk her out of it, is make sure she’s not  _ stupid  _ about it, and make sure she leaves before she gets caught.

What he didn’t know was that it was Councilwoman  _ Griffin’s _ house. Which means it’s also Clarke Griffin’s house. Whose father is a fucking  _ police officer.  _

All of which he knows because he grew up with Clarke, albeit from a distance. He remembers her bringing her dad in for career day to talk about the police force. Remembers overhearing how she didn’t want to be her mother.

He remembers disliking her first--her bright shining hair, her clean, perpetually new clothes--and he remembers amending that opinion sometime in high school, when she lost a lot of friends for coming out, unapologetically, as bi and responded with a fair few middle fingers and by finding better friends. It was kind of amazing, how well she bounced back.

Bellamy remembers thinking, once, that he would get along with Clarke Griffin and her friends, if he had the time. If his mother didn’t spend more money than she made. Needless to say, he never had the chance to see if that was true.

So he’s definitely never been to Clarke’s house, but realization hits the moment Jake Griffin walks out, looking not so different from when Bellamy had seen him at school, so many years ago.

“Hey! What’s going on out here?”

Octavia freezes. She looks around frantically a moment, egg dropping from her hand into the grass, before Bellamy sees a dangerous fire light in her eyes. He’s about to say  _ no way _ to whatever idea it is that she has, but before he gets the chance, she’s proclaiming, “Your daughter’s his ex-girlfriend!”

He just goes with it for a second, out of habit. Things usually end better for them if they’re on the same track, even if Bellamy doesn’t necessarily agree with it. 

“Yeah, exactly, she’s--” He pauses, processing his sister’s words, the weight of them, and looks over to see that she’s  _ pointing  _ at him, like a child trying to shift the blame. He stumbles. “Wait, what? O, no,” he starts, shaking his head at his sister.

But she just pats his shoulder in an approximation of comfort. “It’s okay Bell. You can admit it. She cheated on you and you’re too nice to do anything about it.”

He catches where she’s going now, as farfetched as it is. But it’s what they’ve got, and Mr. Griffin is looking more doubtful by the moment. Bellamy turns to his sister and plays his part, trying not to roll his eyes.

“So what, you thought egging her house would make me feel better? I’m so sorry, Mr. Griffin,” he says, he says, directing his words to the stern looking man. “I’ll take her home and make sure this doesn’t happen again.” He puts a hand on Octavia’s shoulder, turning them away from the house and hoping against hope that he just lets them go.

“Wait, hold on,” the man calls from the door, and Bellamy winces. There at least five ways that this can go wrong--jail time among them--and there’s no denying that he and his sister are at fault here. But maybe if they can play it right… Bellamy turns back to the house, puts on his best,  _ I’m-not-a-threat _ face.

“What can we do for you, sir?”

Mr. Griffin-- _ Officer  _ Griffin--doesn’t look surprised at his innocence, which is probably a good sign. Maybe.

“Just stay here for a minute. I’m going to get my daughter. I’m sure she’d like to talk to you about this.”

Bellamy’s throat goes dry and he hears Octavia chokes back something between a laugh and a gasp. This wasn’t a scenario that he’d played out in his head. He didn’t even know Clarke  _ lived  _ here anymore. He was fairly sure she’d gone away for college, but she’d have graduated by now. 

And apparently she’s here. And about to call them on their bluff.

_ Shit. _

Once Officer Griffin has gone back into the house, Octavia turns to him.

“Come on,” she hisses, “Let’s go!”

“Are you kidding?” Bellamy says, catching her arm, “We live in town. It’s not like it’ll be hard for him to find us.” 

His sister’s face falls. He can see the gears turning in her mind as she tries to craft a way out of this.  “ _ Fuck _ , you’re right.” She pauses, swallows, hair falling into her face. “I’m sorry, Bell. This was… really stupid.”

“Maybe so,” he says.  _ Definitely so,  _ he thinks, but she’s apologizing, he can cut her a some slack. “It’s not done yet. We might still get out of this.”

It’s definitely more optimistic than he feels, but she’s his little sister. He can’t help it sometimes.

Octavia scoffs a little, still looking defeated. “You think Clarke Griffin is just going to play along with our story out of--what? General compassion for the less fortunate?”

Bellamy has to grin. “It could happen.”

Whatever sardonic humor to be found in the situation dies when Clarke and her father walk outside.

Clarke looks… really good honestly, as untimely as the thought may be. Not that she ever  _ didn’t  _ look good, growing up, but she looks more like herself now. Like she finally grew into all that confidence and bravado.

Her brows are drawn together as she scans across the yard in the evening light, and he expects her to become even more confused, when her gaze finally lands on the two of them.

Instead, her expression shifts into recognition. Which is more surprising than the alternative.

She steps into the yard and beckons him toward her. He goes, reluctantly, after a glance back at his sister, who offers him a shrug.

“It’s been a while,” Clarke says when he reaches her. She turns a little, angling away from her father, and Bellamy follows suit.

“You really... recognize me?” he asks, voice low, hyperaware of how strange a conversation this is.

“You recognize me, don’t you?” she asks, with a bit of a smile.

“It’s not like we ever talked,” he says, unsure why he’s trying to talk her out of it. He has the insane feeling that she’s actually going to get him out of this.

“No,” she says, thoughtful, “but I always felt like we were on the same page, somehow, when we had classes together.” She grins again. “And you were the one who always stuck up for the smaller kids, in the hallways.”

She might be blushing, maybe embarrassed at the proclamation, and if she’s blushing, then  _ fuck  _ he must be too. He never really had to deal with the full force Clarke Griffin’s good will. It’s kind of a lot.

“So,” she says, clearing her throat, “Why are you actually here? Somehow I don’t think you hallucinated an entire relationship with me when we haven’t seen each other since high school.”

He gives a short laugh. “No, I uh… Octavia, my sister,” Clarke nods her head, a silent  _ I remember _ , “was supposed to egg some councilperson’s house as an initiation for this club she wants to join.”

It sounds so stupid, saying it out loud, that he’s sure she’s going to choose now to get irritated. And he wouldn’t blame her. It’s kind of overdue.

Instead she responds with a sarcastic, “Sounds like a great club.”

He snorts. “Yeah, definitely my first choice.”

“And let me guess, you insisted on coming with her in case something like this happened?”

She’s being so ridiculously  _ chill _ about it. He feels like she’s somehow not getting the fact they  _ egged her house. _

“You make it sound like that’s as good as keeping her from doing it in the first place.”

“Something tells me you did your best.”

He can’t  _ not  _ smile at her. Clarke Griffin is, apparently, still a force of nature.

Her dad gives a cough from the porch, and Bellamy realizes that not only have they been talking for a while, but they haven’t really been acting like scorned lovers. They might have been… flirting, now that he thinks about it. It’s an unexpected realization..

“Oh, right,” she says, seeming to come to herself. “I’ll tell him that it’s all a misunderstanding. That you saw me with some girl and misread the situation. Got jealous.”

“Sounds reasonable,” he says. She beams, and he falters. “You really think he’s going to buy that we were dating in the first place?”

“It’s not that far fetched,” she says, casual. “I totally had a crush on you in high school.”

It’s probably good that he picks then to grasp that she’s  _ really going to get them out of this. _ It keeps him from dwelling on her last comment. The relief is staggering. “Thank you, Clarke. Seriously.” 

She shrugs. “My mom’s done some shitty stuff. Our house probably deserves to have eggs thrown at it.”

“I’m going to make Octavia clean it up,” he says, still in dazed shock.

“That’d be cool. She’ll win points with my dad for like, taking initiative or something.”

And then she goes to talk to her father, like she makes a habit of saving virtual strangers from stupid situations. Mr. Griffin nods, after a moment, and Clarke sends them off with a wave. Bellamy has the ridiculous sense of actually being  _ sad _ that the situation is over.

When he gets into the car, Octavia’s just staring at him with a mixture of relief and humor.

“What?”

“She’s  _ so _ into you.”

“Shut up, O.”

* * *

He finds Clarke on Facebook because he want to thank her again. Mostly. There might be other reasons.

She adds him back almost immediately, and messages him minutes later. He can’t keep the smile from forming on his face.

**Clarke:**

Is this really Bellamy Blake?

not sure if I recognize you when you’re not throwing eggs at my house.

**Bellamy:**

Yeah, I get that a lot. The yolks really bring out my eyes.

**Clarke:**

Oh my god

dork

**Bellamy:**

Hey, you messaged me. You were looking for this.

**Clarke:**

I was going to say I had no way to know you’d be this dorky, but I did catch you egging my house, so that’s on me

**Bellamy:**

That’s what I’m saying

Thanks again, by the way, I owe you

**Clarke:**

It’s nothing

really

You would have done the same thing

**Bellamy:**

Still. I feel like I need to make it up to you.

**Clarke:**

...

You like caffeine?

**Bellamy:**

Who doesn’t?

**Clarke:**

Good answer.

 

Her next message takes a little longer, like she could somehow be the embarrassed one in this situation.

 

**Clarke:**

You want to buy me coffee and call it even?

**Bellamy:**

You’re letting me off easy, here. 

Yeah, I’d love to.

* * *

 

It feels cheesy to say that coffee goes better than he could have expected, but that doesn’t make it not true. 

She’s just as fun to talk to face-to-face, and they spend the better part of an hour catching up--trading college stories, exchanging details of their jobs. He learns that she  _ is _ living here again, that she isn’t just visiting her parents. It makes him stupidly hopeful.

“So,” he starts, when they’re getting ready to leave. “How pitiful would it be for me to hope your high school crush hasn’t morphed into total disappointment?” It’s something he would roll his eyes at, if he heard anyone else say it. He cringes internally.

But she perks up at the question. “Not as pitiful as not being over a high school crush,” she says, conspiratorial.

He grins. “You want to do this again sometime?”

She shrugs in mock nonchalance. “Well my dad thinks we’re cute, so I guess we’d better.”

“We wouldn’t want to let down your dad.”

“No,” she says, taking his arm, smiling up at him, “we wouldn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always around on [tumblr](http://www.goldenheadfreckledheart.tumblr.com)!


End file.
